


Hips don’t lie

by The_GrxyWxrxn_91



Category: All For The Game
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 17:55:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_GrxyWxrxn_91/pseuds/The_GrxyWxrxn_91
Summary: Jeremy Knox was very lonely and God wouldn’t listen, so why not ask Satan.Wait, since when was Satan so hot?——Jean is Satan and and Jeremy is a very good dancer





	Hips don’t lie

Satan didn’t need to eat or drink, it wasn’t like he needed to do either to stay alive. However, he felt obligated to order at least a coffee when he was out with the mortal. 

They had been regularly keeping in contact for a bit over two years now and it wasn’t as boring as Satan had first imagined befriending a mortal would be. 

The ‘mortal’ was actually birthed with the name Jeremy which Satan had recently learnt when the two had started going out for breakfast together. He had ordered under Jeremy a few times so Satan guessed that was his name. 

It was not necessarily that Satan did not care for the mortal, although it was a close thing, but more along the lines of conflict of interest. 

The only reason Satan was sat across in a booth from the mortal in a quaint coffee shop in Spain was because said mortal decided that selling his soul to Satan for kinship was more appropriate that suicide. 

The mortal had contacted Satan on a rather melancholy day in California which struck Satan as a surprising concept. He had not been to California since it’s founding sometime ago and even back then it was a place of new sun and even newer beginnings. 

The mortal had called for him, beckoned Satan to his...cozy little university dorm room in the middle of the night. When Satan had arrived, appearing in the centre of the room like a miracle, the mortal was crying in a ball on his bed. 

At first Satan assumes his presence was there to kill or perhaps answer a question that had been bothering the small thing. However, the mortal had begged him for happiness because God wouldn’t listen. 

Satan, deciding to add a bit of fun to his boring death, obliged but on a single condition. 

“Give your soul to me,” he had declared in a voice that had had been informed sounded an awful lot like smoke, “give me that and happiness will wait on your doorstep.” 

The mortal had been so...Satan did not know the name of such an emotion, it was not something he was familiar with. The only emotions Satan had ever felt were rage, fear, sadness and irritation. 

The mortal had obliged, clearly desperate for whatever it was that he longed for, a friend Satan understood now. Someone to make him feel less alone. 

Now, the mortal provided Satan with a small smile as he set his almond croissant back on the China plate. 

“France is my favourite place in the world,” Satan provided the mortal. He always relished in learning anything about Satan, acted as a simple ‘I don’t like the cold’ was a gift of gold and immortality. 

“Really, Jean?” Ah, yes, the name of which the mortal called Satan by. He had no idea where the name originated from, but Satan would admit that it was a lot more normal that his actual name. 

“Why?” The mortal continued. “What about it?” 

“I appreciate it a lot more than I do you Americans.” Satan said honestly, pulling a shy chuckle from the human. Satan’s mind stuttered for a moment at the sound. “I-um, I spent a few thousand years there, more than I’ve ever stay anywhere before.” 

“So that’s why you have an accent?” The mortal sipped at his coffee, catching a drip of the caramel coloured liquid from his bottom lip with a swipe of his thumb. Again, Satan had this weird, unfamiliar feeling in his chest. 

“I wasn’t aware of it being so prominent.” Satan confessed. He drank the last mouthful of his black tea before refilling it again. 

“It’s unfair!” The human cried, pointing at the filling cup. “You never have to pay for anything!” 

Satan flicked a finger and the mortal’s cup began to fill by itself as well. 

“Happy, now?” Satan inquired with a swift and well practiced eyebrow raise. The mortal only answered with a self conscious grin. 

Breakfast continued as usual, conversations about everything and anything that came into the mortal’s mind. They had once talked about tiny mouths on each fingertip while a person was swimming so they would never have to come up for air. 

Finally, Satan produced a fifty dollar note and left it on the table. Of course breakfast hadn’t cost them fifty dollars, but the more money the easier it was to bring into existence, there was more to focus on.

The mortal followed Satan to a small little book store on the corner of a random street. The mortal didn’t know Spanish so he didn’t speak to anyone inside, even the staff who were asking if their assistance was required. 

The mortal was always so shy, even in English. He was just naturally timid and that had made it easy for people to walk all over him through his short life. 

Satan browsed the shelves of old, leather bound books and novels. Some held stories of heroes and others tales of wars most violent. Every book that Satan skimmed his long fingers over held something different, something unique and never before seen. 

This place looked like his library at home, books brown with age and fragile from hands. Shelves randomly arranged into a winding maze and scattered scrolls in nooks, piles of novels stacked on the floor for they did not fit anywhere else. The lighting dim with yellow burning candle’s and crisp with the sent of knowledge. 

“Jean,” the mortal lay a hand on Satan’s shoulder, carful not to startle. It always surprised Satan the the human was not afraid of him, did not fear being in his presence but felt comfortable. Satan had never had anyone act like that around him, not since he fell. 

“Right,” Satan remembered, “back before nine for classes, yes.” 

The mortal smiled and nodded, looking almost guilty for needing to bring Satan from his mind. He rarely got lost up there, it was a pitch black cave that Satan himself couldn’t navigate through. 

They found a dark, hidden corner in the book shop where nobody dared to venture. The mortal took Satan’s hand and closed his eyes like he always did when they jumped. It was a sickening experience that pulled you inside yourself before spitting you out onto the ground. It had taken millennial for Satan to stop getting dizzy every time. 

Satan thought of the human’s closet sized apartment and they were there within the millisecond. 

The human stumbled and Satan had to grab the idiot by the waist before he fell and cracked his head open. 

The human was flushed against him while he allowed his swanning head to settle. There was a few minutes of the mortal’s whole body against Satan’s own, where he could feel all of the mortal under him. It scared Satan to know that this form of hug was strangely pleasant and not revolting entirely. 

The mortal shifted slightly, his hand slid from Satan’s back to his stomach and up to his chest. The human’s face was in Satan’s neck, a not to disgusting huff of hot breath escaping and fanning across Satan’s skin. 

“Jean, you can let go now, I’m fine.” The mortal said, an obvious smile on his mouth. Satan let go of the human, plastering a scowl on his face. 

“Get to class.” Satan said, sounding a lot more put off than earlier. 

The human smiled and nodded, hair a vibrant gold bobbing up and down like a cloud on top of his head. 

The mortal grabbed his satchel and left with a ‘goodbye, Jean!’ way to enthusiastic for the time. 

“Goodbye, Jeremy.” 

Satan ran his hand through Jeremy’s hair. In Satan’s sleep, he was not ‘the mortal’ because the mortal meant against everything. In his sleep the boy was Jeremy. Sweet Jeremy. Perfect Jeremy. 

In Satan’s sleep was also the only time he ever allowed himself to give into that want, that unfamiliar crave for skin on skin and mouth on mouth. He had not craved anything so dangerous since before God’s horrible spawn showed up to ruin all his fun. 

Satan was not allowed to mess around with mortal’s, that had been decided after God had gone and got a married woman pregnant. However, this law did not stop Satan from craving the sweet smelling human like he had once craved power and freedom. 

Why crave something so pointless as power, when there was a boy that constantly smelt of chocolate and lavender that was always in need of Satan? It seemed like such a simple choice between the two, too easier of a choice. 

In Satan’s sleep, Jeremy kissed him like Satan was the giver of life itself. Jeremy cupped Satan’s neck as the smaller creature fit himself perfectly against Satan. Jeremy’s body on top of Satan’s own, Satan’s long legs keeping Jeremy pressed to him as their mouths’ connected in a way that drove Satan mad. 

In his dreams, he was no longer Satan, king of hell, fallen angel, the essence of evil and sin and vice. In his dreams, he was Jean, the idea of a person that Jeremy had given him, a human persona with morals and feelings and not something lost and lonely. 

Jeremy was not a mortal play thing, one to pass the time when peril slowed down. No, to Satan, being with Jeremy was like the thrill of spreading his wings and hearing their sweet song of purity and hope, leaving him was like falling from those gates that were eternally shut for him. Dreaming of Jeremy was the same as dreaming of life and heaven and the life he was so foolish to throw away. 

Only in Satan’s sleep did he allow himself to flip them over so Jeremy grinned up at him, golden hair of the angels sprawled out all over the red pillows of Satan’s bed. 

Looking down at the dream Jeremy, Satan’s chest tighten with a strange emotion. It gripped his heart with sharp, unmerciful talon and squeezed it, until all the lifeless, black blood trickle out of the organ until it was a shrivelled...something. 

“What’s wrong?” Jeremy cupped Satan’s jaw but decided instead to move it down. His hand slipped down Satan’s neck, his chest and around his waist, pulling Satan’s lower half down on his. 

Satan’s words caught in his throat, he couldn’t speak or think any rational thought. The only thought in his mind was, breathtaking. 

Was Satan shaking? His vision was vibrating just a little, but enough that he noticed it. Why was he shaking? 

Jeremy leant up, nudging his nose into the crook of Satan’s neck and he could feel the smile on Jeremy’s mouth pressed to his skin. Satan fell forward, his shaking arms giving out and making him collapse onto Jeremy. They both fell to the bed in a sort of hug/tangle thing. 

Satan was still shaking when Jeremy brought his face into the crook of his neck and kept his arms around Satan’s shoulders. Jeremy strokes his hair back gently, everything about Jeremy was gentle. 

“Shhh,” Jeremy soothed but his voice sounded distant already. Satan wasn’t ready to be alone again. If he could, Satan would spend every moment a sleep with this Jeremy. 

“Don’t leave just yet.” Satan -uncharacteristically- whimpered. 

“I have too, Jean.” Jeremy cooed. “It’s morning here now and the sun is waking me up.” 

Satan pushes himself up on his hands so he was looking down at the angel he didn’t deserve to think of this way. 

Jeremy cupped his face with a beautifully subtle smile that he does. 

“What do you mean, baby?” Satan asked. 

“Shh, see you at breakfast, baby,” Jeremy added the last word in a mocking tone, placing a quick kiss on Satan’s cheek before he was gone again. 

Satan opened his eyes and he could still smell Jeremy. Could still feel him. See him. Taste him and his sweet lemon mouth. 

Satan collapses back further into his bed with a unpleasant groan. He rubbed the heels of his hands over his tired eyes before stretching out all of his taunt muscles. 

Satan reached up fore the ceiling with one hand, imaging it curling around gold locks before the hand collapsed to his bare chest, empty and cold. 

He almost expected to roll over to see shining blue eyes looking back at him with a question, “What are you doing, Jean?” 

“One day, my dear.” Satan smoothed over the left side of the bed that would remain cold and made until there was a small Jeremy body to warm and mess it up. 

Satan sat up, the silk sheets pooling around his waist and exposing his whole upper half to the amused on looker. 

“Who’d ever think that Satan himself would be so romantic!” Kevin cooed mockingly. “Pet names, sides of the bed and you haven’t even kissed when you’re awake.” 

Satan instead flopped down onto the mattress once more, rolling onto his stomach. It was too early to deal with Kevin, but if Kevin was up and kicking than it was probably the late hours of the afternoon. 

“Hmm go!” Satan groaned into his pillow in a certainly not elegant manner. 

“Nope,” Kevin said, popping the P, “you have a schedule for today, you need to catch up on work that you’ve missed out on by spending so much time with the human.” 

Satan let out one last groan before kicking his feet over the side of the bed, making sure the blankets covered his lap. He reached for his black robe that hung from the forth post on the bed and slipped it on, the silk cooling his hot skin. 

“Let the day begin, my lord.” Kevin pulled his arms so Satan fell flat on his face. “Sorry,” 

Jeremy turned the volume up on his crappy speaker to max volume. The little box vibrated on the table as ‘Dance to this’ by Troye Sivan blasted in the crappy dorm kitchen. 

Jeremy had pancakes on the stove, toast in the toaster, bacon and eggs on the back burner and brownies in the oven. He was aware that brownies were often considered a breakfast food, but today they were because today was the first day of holidays. 

Jeremy moved in time with the music, swaying his hips and spreading his arms up and to the side. He had done dancing up until college and had loved every moment of it. But now he couldn’t afford classes so he barely danced anymore. 

Now, this is what he did, dance while cooking. It was almost as good as in the studio. 

Jeremy decided that there was enough room in the tiny kitchen to do pirouettes and he barely skimmed his toe on the tenth spin. 

The song finished and he took a bow before ‘Hips don’t lie’ came on next. This was a playlist from Jeremy’s high school days, most of the songs were his favourites from high school but others were new additions. 

Jeremy flipped the pancakes, eggs and bacon while doing the exact dance from the music video, turning the brownies while adding his own little bit into it. 

He loved dancing to this song when he was a kid, in his lounge room at the farm doing a uncoordinated version of the same dance. His mother had lodes of videos, one a timeline of how good he was getting at moving his hips like a woman. 

His father had found it and kicked him out. 

Jeremy froze with his hips to the left when clapping came from behind him. 

“Impressive,” Jean said and Jeremy frowned at the mocking tone his used in his voice. Jeremy let his body go back to normal before turning around to face Jean who was sitting cross legged on the counter. 

“Problem?” Jeremy asked. 

“None,” Jean jumped off the counter to stand in front of Jeremy at the stove. “Quite frankly, you’d put some of my dancers to shame.” 

Jean grabbed a piece of bubbling bacon of the pan and ate it straight, a pare of fangs appeared like they always do whenever he eats. Jeremy was suddenly aware that this was not ‘Jean’ but Satan himself who was only here by omission. 

“Wait for breakfast to be served!” Jeremy swatted Jean’s hand away when he went to grab another. Jean almost chuckled as he went to sit down at the bar. 

After awhile of silence and Jeremy cooking Jean said, “You can keep dancing.” 

“I know.” Jeremy turned off the back burner and put a lid over the bacon and eggs. 

“I’ll take you too a dance studio today.” Jean suggested and Jeremy chuckled with a shake of his head. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious. Dancing is something you clearly enjoy. There is this one studio in France where I met one of my most skilled dancers.”

Jeremy set down two plates he had prepared while Jean had been speaking. He knew Jean didn’t eat, but watching him do it made him look more human, even if Fanges were present. 

Jean held his fork properly as he cut the pancake into a bite sized piece while Jeremy rolled his up and ate it in one go. 

Jean rolled his eyes at Jeremy’s glutinous habitats but said nothing. 

“So, yes,” Jean continued when his mouth was empty, “I can find us a spare studio and you can do as you do desire until we decide to leave.”

With a mouth full of eggs, Jeremy asked, “Why do I feel like you’re avoiding something by doing this?” 

Jean hid a smirk with the back of his hand and shrugged casually. Jeremy didn’t know what Jean was avoiding by spending the day with him, but he found himself not mad at all. He was silently hyper excited to be able to dance again, that Jean was allowing his passion to show without commenting on how dancing is only for girls. 

The two finished breakfast in the lounge room where ELITE was playing from before. Jeremy was loving the second season right now. He ended up telling Jean everything about it, how Carla and Samuel are a match made in heaven and how Polo is terrible and Ander and Omar deserve happiness. Jean listened too all Jeremy ranting through breakfast, asking questions about what happened to Marina and why was this Rebecca girl so angry all the time. 

When they jumped to the studio, it was empty yet everything was set up. The speakers were connected to Jeremy phone, mirrors newly cleaned and clothes folded up on a chair. 

Jeremy rushed to the clothes and held them up. 

Grey sweatpants, a cropped yellow hoodie and adidas trainers. 

Jeremy grinned brightly as he instantly pulled his boring blue t-shirt over his head. He pulled on the hoodie and it cut off just above his abs that he got from dancing and the gym. 

He pushed down his jeans and replaced them with the tracksuit pants, same with the shoes. 

Jean had taken the chair that the clothes had been on and sat himself in the corner furthest from the door. 

This was a ballet studio, but the clothes promised something else. 

“Phone?” Jeremy asked Jean. 

“What song?” Jean asked, Jeremy’s phone appearing in his hand, unlocked and on Spotify. 

“I saw this one for Senioita.” Jeremy answered. 

Almost as soon as Jeremy stopped talking did the speakers start playing the song. 

Jeremy ran into his spot and caught up with the music. 

The moves right off the bat were very seductive and especially since Jeremy was copying the last woman from the video he had been watching last night. 

He had just been scrolling through YouTube when he came across a dance to this song. There were a couple different people dancing to it before the lady ha had decided was the best one. Her body moved a lot like a snake, a very pretty snake. 

Jeremy tried his best to recreate it from memory. It was fast, then really fast and then stop and then go over and over again. 

Jeremy had to move his hips a lot, which wasn’t a problem because that was what he had been doing for the past twenty three years of dancing. 

Jeremy ran his hands through the sides of his hair, head bent back slightly, posture straight as possible but chest out and hips slowly going left then SNAP- he had his arms out. 

As he took about three steps to the right his arms went from left one out behind him, right hand over his rapidly beating heart and then switch. 

After the steps there is two pirouettes and then- hand on the floor between his open legs then standing again all in the time span of five seconds. 

A body roll was next which he always enjoyed doing back in high school, when a lot of boys were very confused about why said body roll made them feel like they did when seeing a female dancer do the same thing. The reason, because Jeremy was doing the exact same thing. 

A bunch of hard to follow body snaps and turns and movements followed until one last spin and crouching on the floor. The end position was; head thrown back, one knee up and the other kneeling with both hands on the polished floor behind him, back bowed. 

The biggest grin split Jeremy’s face in half as he fell back, the music still playing. He sprawled out on the floor, chest heaving and skin flushed and sweaty. He was in a total state of bliss, the act of dancing making him feel more like himself. 

Jeremy had missed dance more than he thought he did. Now that he had a taste of what it was like again Jeremy wanted to dance until he passed out from exhaustion. 

Jeremy thought of another song that he had watch choreography for last night. 

Jeremy sent a look to Jean and felt a blush hit his cheeks hard. Jean was sitting on the edge of his seat, pant fronts straining unbelievably, mouth open in shock and skin flushed, his eyes less grey and more black with what Jeremy was gonna guess was lust. 

So it wasn’t just in his dreams, Jeremy thought. Every night since about a year ago, Jeremy would get dreams where he’d be in a luxurious room with red silk and black oak. Jean would always be looming over him as Jeremy sunk right into the mattress. It had taken months for Jeremy to realise that it wasn’t Jeremy’s dream at all, but Jean’s and Jeremy had just ‘stumbled into the wrong dream’ instead. 

Not that he was mad that Jean dreamt of Jeremy that way, he silently loved it and wanted to spend most of the time asleep, but he was a bit aggravated that Jean hadn’t tried anything in the waking life. 

Jeremy brushed it off for another time, allowing his dance induced bliss to return. 

Then, Jeremy got a terrible, mean, perfect idea. If Jean had gotten worked up over that then there is so much fun to be had. 

“Taki Taki,” Jeremy grunted as he stood up again. The music played. 

This dance was a lot more sexual with slow twerking/grinding movement, a move where the hoodie rose up to his collarbone and showing of his whole chest, a lot of hands on body and hips. Always hip. 

This time the song ended with Jeremy with his knees bent and legs open again. He had his arm stretched out in front of him, other arm behind him, making eye contact with a very exited Jean, pointing at his bulge with the out stretched hand. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have any high heels would you?” Jeremy asked, tilting his head to the side and grinning innocently. 

Jeremy had danced a bit in high heels with a few of his friends back in high school and he could still do it, maybe a stumble in the beginning but he was pretty at home in dancing around in them. 

Jean cleared his throat and snapped his fingers in Jeremy’s direction. 

Now, as it happens, Jean had given him what he was thinking at the time which, coincidentally was more than just heels. 

Jeremy found his legs exposed and that he was now wearing something that was most definitely very short but very defining black bike pants and a grey version of the same hoodie as well as black heels with a heel big enough to dance with and not kill yourself. 

Jean’s eyes went huge and he looked like he was choking. He snapped his legs closed and hands over the front of his rather expensive looking black jeans. 

“Could you play the song river, please Jean?” Jeremy asked, fiddling with the hoodie tails. He was laying this innocent act on strong. 

River started playing and Jeremy didn’t know if he was going to regret this or not because when he began moving, Jeremy remember how many slut drops there were in this dance. 

Jeremy bite his lip as he blew out the imagery cigarette before going into the first drop, making eye contact with himself in the mirror, still chewing on his lip. 

When he stood up, Jeremy’s hands dragged up his front and around his neck, pulling his hoodie up for a few moments. A few swings of the arms before he snapped back, back bowing. 

Jeremy rolled back up into a standing position, aiming a gun made from his hands at himself in the mirror and shooting in time with the music. 

After that, Jeremy couldn’t care less about Jean watching him or the fact that he was self conscious right now. He pushed it away and relished in the movement of dancing. 

He put everything into his moves, dropping fast but smooth, changing from one act to the other faster than a blink. 

It felt like he was dancing on a cloud above any other human, in his own little bubble of movement. The way his arms, legs, torso and hips moved reminded him like a waterfall, beautiful and natural. 

When the dance ended was yanked off his feet and with his eyes closed the whole ordeal was frightening, the ground being ripping out from underneath him. Jeremy was taken back to high school at the feeling, he braced for the pain of tumbling down a flight of stairs or maybe into the corner of a desk, even the floor itself. 

However, no. Jeremy was caught and he wasn’t standing but sitting on something not chair like. Jeremy opened his eyes and gasped at Jean staring back at him centimetres away. 

Jean had pulled Jeremy by the front of the shirt, allowing Jeremy to fall onto his lap. 

Jeremy felt his whole face go bright red at the darkness in Jean’s eyes, at the fact that Jeremy was STRADDLING HIM!

Jean’s fingers dug into Jeremy hips to pull him closer, both of their bodies flushed against each other, not a pocket of space. 

Now, Jeremy realised that Jean’s very fancy and expensive dress shirt was half unbuttoned from the top down. When had that amazing event happened? 

The skin shown between both halves of the shirt was luminous white and covered in scars. 

Jeremy braced his hands over Jean’s pecs’ with his thumbs rubbing on bare skin. 

“Jean?” Jeremy asked after a few moments of nothing happening, just eye contact and Jeremy’s heart rate jumping. 

“I can’t,” Jean broke the eye contact, ripping away like Jeremy’s eyes were burning his. He hid his face in his shoulder, fingers on Jeremy’s hips tightening in struggle. “This is against every rule.”

“Shh,” Jeremy soothed. He slid his hands from Jean’s chest, up his neck to cup his face. With his hands on Jean’s face, Jeremy moved it so they were looking at each other again. “Hey, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t like you this way!” Jean confessed. 

“Because I’m a boy?” Jeremy held back his wince. He had done this all before with a guy named Dominic, in the end Dom got scared of liking boys so he proposed to a girl named Sara that his parents had been setting him up with the whole time. 

“No, no!” Jean wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s waist in an almost hug. Jeremy let out a gust of wind. “I don’t care that you’re a boy, well actually I do because I like boys and not girls but that’s not the reason.” 

Jeremy tugged on the hair at the back of Jean’s head when he started to let his eyes wonder away from Jeremy. 

“Jean,” He began, “Talk to me.” 

“You’re a mortal, i’m Satan!” Jean looked pained. “It is against everything, the one rule I still follow set by God is no romantic relationships with mortals!” Jean leant forward, hiding his face in Jeremy’s neck. “But you’re so hard to resist.” 

“What happens if we...if we try?” Jeremy asked, feeling the bulge beneath him soften slowly. He rolled his hips once, twice to get it to stay there, liking it more than he ever could have imagined. 

“I...” Jean’s words and breaths were clipped as Jeremy continued to move against his lap. “God could kill me.” He panted. 

Jeremy faulted a bit, “But you’re so big and-“ 

The rest of Jeremy’s thirsty comment was cut of by a lady screaming from out side the door, “No sex in the studio!” 

“Buz kill!” Jeremy yelled back at her while still rutting against a breathless Jean. 

“Baby, we have to stop,” Jean gasped, even though he was meeting Jeremy’s thrusts. “This is-“

“Perfect,” Jeremy finished for Jean. Jean slipped two fingers into Jeremy mouth while presumably saying ‘fuck it’ in his head so he could kiss all over Jeremy’s neck. 

This kept going until Jeremy could feel the end moments away. 

“Jean, fuck-“ Jean cut Jeremy off with his mouth as they both fell over the edge. Jeremy groaned into Jean’s mouth and he swallowed the sound. 

Jeremy kissed Jean with as much passion as newlyweds on their honeymoon. 

Their tongues danced like Jeremy had done before as they both calmed down. 

Jeremy broke apart, gasping out for air when his lungs finally were out. 

Jean was gasping too, a beautiful look of relief and bliss on his face. 

Jeremy grimaced at the feeling in his pants but decided to focus more on Jean’s beautiful reaction. 

“No sex in the studio!”

**Author's Note:**

> River choreography: https://youtu.be/OLtdj-DGM8o
> 
> Taki Taki: https://youtu.be/rnMIWj_t3Ow
> 
> Señorita: https://youtu.be/VKrBSVUL1so
> 
> River: Jeremy was copying the girl in the middle of the first group 
> 
> Taki Taki: Same 
> 
> Señorita: last girl


End file.
